The Fella
by Alex Took
Summary: Thomas meets someone his heart will never forget, but can he keep their romance secret and safe from the scorning eyes of Downton? Thomas/Evan (OC)
1. A Proper Friend

_**Author's note: **_Takes place several months after season 3 finale. Enjoy!

* * *

I walk down the street, hopping out of the way of a car. I haven't seen Mr. Carson this morning. Mrs. Hughes for only a moment. Not even nasty O'Brien. I truly am free. No stares or glares or comments about what I do with my day. I could tell them a thing or two to do with their day off but I'd like to keep me job. Always judgmental. Carson especially. Though why should I even notice. I've been judged since I got hair on my chin.

I step out of the way of a woman and a man with a baby. A family. I give the lady a smile and she gives one back. The baby has a blue bonnet. He's all smiles and giggles now. But if he turns out like me he won't be laughing long. Though that's all one can do like me isn't it. Laugh at others to mask my carved insides, cold bitter vines wrapping around me lungs like a python. If it keeps up forever I don't think I'll have the lung to laugh any longer. Alone with empty pockets I'll be. No one to think like me. Feel like me.

I'm too distracted by my own pity that I don't notice the man before me until I bump into him.

"Excuse me sir." I shoot out, looking to meet his face. His eyes meet mine before tipping his hat. I instantly feel my mood shift at the tone in his voice and look of his cheekbones.

"It was my fault." He says. This man is young. Near my years if not just. His eyes are kind. I give him a smile before stepping out of his way.

"Surely it was mine. Have a good day." He returns the nod before continuing on his way, looking determined to get wherever he is going. I notice any man worth a face in village but his I don't recognize.

Thirsty for a pint I start my day at the Hogs Brew. Not many inside as it is before lunch and a work day for most. I take a seat in my regular spot. By the window. Overlooking the river. Having someone serve me makes me as relaxed as I am made uneasy. It feels right as it does wrong but makes me smile. I deserve a meal to be handed to me every now and then. When I am away from the house, I often feel my mind shift. People here don't know who I am. Don't know much anyway. They don't see everything I've done or had done to me. They just see me, and sometimes that person feels like a stranger.

A woman walks over and asks for my order. I get a pint and a small slice of cake. A delicacy in the house since it always seems to be eaten entirely by the upstairs, or Jimmy and Alfred if there are leftovers. The woman comes back, her dress drifts as she shifts her weight.

"Is that all you would like?"

"Yes, mam." I nod.

"I know your face. You come here often." She gives me a funny smile. "Take this one the house." She sets a plate down before me, one piece of rich dark cake atop the glass and another wrapped up to take home. I don't often get this sort of offer, so I take it.

"Thank you misses." I give her a smile and she gives me one that I know means she fancies me. Isn't the first time I've gotten that look from a misses. They're always easier to get then from a man. She leaves and I get to my pint and my plate. I forget how much I like cake. Whiskey cake. I rest my pocket watch on the table, checking in my time. I've got plenty of it.

A few minutes pass before voices catch my attention behind the near wall. They aren't sound proof. There's a man shouting and a quiet voice answering. I lean back in my chair. They don't think they I can see them but I can. A free show with my cake. I listen, hoping the argument gets worse or I hear something worth all the racket when I catch a glimpse of a man's face. The chap I ran into earlier. With the face. I'd know it and I do know it.

"You're late!" Said a deep man's voice.

"I'm sorry."

"I hire you from nothing. And this is how you repay me. Being an hour late, I have been serving tables. _Me_!"

"It won't happen again." For whatever reason, they are nearly out of the back room now and are just behind the bar. Perhaps the fella is backing away from the fat man. Lucky for them I'm the only man in here except someone viciously writing up a letter who looks like he wouldn't notice a tree falling.

"Damn right it will not." The fella is aware they are in the eyes of the public now even if the fat man, who should be, isn't. The fella glances at me and I don't look away. I know a look of fear in a man's eyes. And he's got it. This has gone from entertainment to getting on me nerves. It isn't right. I can see the red of the man's cheeks, the sweat above his grayed brow. "If this is your last day, it certainly won't." He snaps like a tree branch. It is in the tone of the fella's voice that makes me rise to my feet. Desperation.

"_Please_. I need this." Without realizing I've done it I'm at the bar, calling out to the fella's attacker.

"Excuse me." Two sets of eyes are on me in a flash. "A bit hard to not overhear this... discussion. And thought I'd say it's my fault he was late." The fella's eyes flick to me with a thundering look.

"How do you mean, Mr-"

"Barrow, sir." I nod to him and put on my face. The one people trust. "I was coming along in me own head not seeing where I put my feet and ran into him on the street. He would've been on time I'm sure if he hadn't had to clean up from the fall. Just trying to be responsible that's all." I stretch the truth but that's just the way I talk. I watch the fat man look the fella over, before looking to me. If he's got a brain he knows I work for the Granthams. And by the look on his face and stiffening of his weak spine I think he might.

"I see."

"Just a miss communication of men, as Lord Grantham would say." I throw his name in to spear his sharp tongue. The fat man nods and takes a step back from the fella.

"Good day to you, Mr. Barrow." He lowers his voice, but I've got good hearing even with me back turned. "You're lucky to have run into him." His voice is a snake but I let the him go and return to my seat. A few minutes pass as I sip my pint, look over the paper and work on my piece of cake. All the while glancing at the fella whom has taken over the cake woman's job as a server. Getting the order from a man who has just entered. By the fella's smile and voice and the joking about the weather you'd never know he was snaked in a corner a moment ago. But that's the trick isn't it. Though I find taking the venom from your python and throwing it at others is better solution. I look away when he goes to the back room.

I watch him as I finish my pint and cake. His hair is wavy. His cheekbones and jaw a good look. As is his build. Eyes narrowed out with a story in them. He sees me looking and I give him a smile. He takes a man's plate to the back before coming around and heading for me.

"Are you done, sir?" The fella asks. I hand him my dishes and nod.

"Yes. It was delicious." He is quiet before lowering his voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Barrow. You didn't have to do that." I nod with a smile.

"Of course. I don't tolerate a man being talked down to."

"I appreciate that. Though it still was my fault." He moves to leave but I touch his arm. He looks to it then my face.

"No, it wasn't. Mr-"

"Call me, Evan."

"Evan." I say. "Hope to see you again." I say it though I don't know why because a man with his face is surely for the ladies. My luck never brings in big fish always empty hooks. He smiles at me and it lingers with me till he walks away. I take my cake and leave.

It's only noon. I have a whole day to myself. I don't want to spend much money so I peruse the shops. Admire the suits. But they only make me think of work. Of all the time they have shunned or shamed me. Sure, they didn't like some of what I've done or said, but many times it's because of what I am. Even when I leave the house I feel like I'm still there. Mind jumping on what to do next before I can go out for a smoke. That's what I decide to do.

I pull out a cigarette. Take a seat on a bench overlooking the river, watch the smoke drift into the wind and disappear. I think of the fella. I wonder what he's done or not done to need a serving job so desperately. Wonder if he is married. Wonder where he comes from. And my mind can't stop coming up with different scenarios of who he is. For something about him makes me wonder.

I find myself glancing back to the Hog's Brew, it's in sight. Wondering when the fella might get off duty. A day of serving. I know what that's like. But lucky for him, a lot of folks who come in are his class. It's about half way through the afternoon when I see the back door open, a tall thin man with dark hair. I know by the color of the vest it is the fella. He walks out, the sunlight bounces off the watch he is looking at. I want to walk over but he'd wonder why I'd do it. And I haven't got a reason. So I pick up my things off the bench and head back towards Downton. But I make sure to walk on the side of the street of the fella.

When I pass him I look over, he notices me just before going inside and nods. I give him a nodded smile and go on.

* * *

"Put the apples in the _pie_ not the muffins, what do you think this is horse supper?" Mrs. Patmore shouts from the kitchen. I hear it as I walk in. Then I feel O'Brien's eyes on me before I notice her and I could swear, Mr. Carson's breath on my neck before I even see him. He passes me in the hall and gives me a look. He thinks he's hiding his jealousy. But he isn't. The man won't take a day off but I swear he does it just so he can complain about never having his own time. Bloody oaf. The cook staff are all buzzing about, luncheon is near. I see Jimmy and Alfred spending their spare minutes before serving chatting in the corner. Jimmy's hair is swept like a golden pillow. But after seeing the fella today, his face doesn't hold up. But then again, it wasn't just the fella's face. But something else in him that makes me think this.

"Are you just going to stare at him until he morphs into a butterfly?" Carson growls as he passes. I must have been standing there longer then I thought. And though me eyes are on Jimmy my head wasn't.

"He already has Mr. Carson. But I don't think you'll have your turn." I smirk, knowing its so close to a meal that he won't spare the moment to turn about and scorn me.

"Excuse me Thomas," Daisy squibbles out as she dashes past with a smoking dish. Funny. She was once like that lady today, thinking she could get in on my fancy. Flattering but as uninteresting as what it looks like they're serving for supper. I know it will rile up Carson, and I'm not doing anything else at the moment, so I take a seat at the table and watch them scurry about like rats with fire beneath their feet.

"Careful Jimmy, you might strain yourself." I say with a smile, watching the footman toss his glove about while waiting for his tray to be ready. He smiles back.

"Same to you." I lean back in my chair.

"Here boys, don't touch the bottom of the tray, or you might loose a finger. It's right off the stove!" Ivy rushes out. Alfred and Jimmy exchange a worried look. I chuckle at the way Jimmy's upper lip curls as they carefully head off with their trays.

"Working hard I see." I feel my spine curl up at the voice. Sarah O'Brien.

"Harder than you." I saw without looking back. I hear her heels click off like a loose pony.

Trying to make them jealous gets old so I go to my room. Put my cake away and hang up me jacket. It's funny how tired I am even on me day off. You work so bloody hard and don't realize you're working on an aching body till you lie down for bed and go out like a broken light. I lay down and fall asleep.

* * *

It's late afternoon, evening? The sun is going down quick. Giving the window the soft glow of a wilting fire. I hear a bustle downstairs. Sounds like a hen house.

I find Anna at the table, she's always been kind. She even asks about my day. I don't tell her about the fella. It's the quiet calm before dinner. I'm considering leaving to find my own dinner elsewhere, forgetting the expenses, since this is my only chance to eat something other than Mrs. Patmore's white mashed anything. When I hear the sound of a disruption. Not clattering kind of disruption but the sound of two people's voices. Tones telling me of one. Carson and Mrs. Hughes. But when I hear my name I peak my head about the corner, the two look at me strange.

"I've been gone all day. Couldn't have been me." I say.

"Well that's just it." Carson says as he approaches. "It seems you left a belonging in town. A pocket watch. A man has brought it back for you. But that man is-"

Mrs. Hughes cuts his words. "Not a money man." Carson grunts.

"The matter is he in this house. In Robert's library. With Robert. It is almost dinner. Almost time to ring the gong. And yet there is a man upstairs who doesn't belong. And Robert asked for you to join them as to retrieve said belonging."

"You could'a just said there's a man with me watch upstairs." I wonder if it could be the fella. But perhaps it is the fat man trying to win me over. The Granthams over in case I talked of his unruly treatment of the fella. I step forward but his fat finger stops me.

"Take it. And leave. I don't know why this is happening but I don't like it." This only makes me want to ask whoever it is to stay as long as they like. Anna comes downstairs and has a funny smile, I step out of her way and make to leave when I hear her giggle with Daisy.

"He's a handsome one he is."

"You always get the excitement Anna!" Handsome... I quicken my step and go upstairs, smoothing my vest and head for the library.

"Ah Thomas." Robert says, rising from the sofa. I see a man with rich dark hair sitting in front of him. Back to me. "This kind gentlemen has come all this way to return your pocket watch." I'm surprised at the start my heart gets when I meet the eyes of the fella. I smile easily and he rises to meet me. Handing the watch over. The metal is warm from the heat of his palm.

"As an Under Butler, I know keeping time is important." He says. Robert gestures to him with one hand.

"Before the war he worked for the Townsends. And now that you say it, you do look awful familiar." The fella nods at Robert and smiles, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Footman."

"Great work a Footman is. Used to be one myself." I say smiling. Robert looks between us. I feel he is looking longer at me than needs be. Why, I haven't done nothing. Or am I smiling too much.

The deep bellow of the dressing gong rings through the house.

"My, looks like Carson wants an early start tonight," Robert says, looking at his watch. Early start my foot. He's doing it on purpose to shoo the fella out. "I do apologize. Would you like our Chauffeur to take you back into town? I'm certain he won't mind." The fella passes off the offer with his hand.

"I appreciate that very much. But a walk could do me good."

"Very well then. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Luke."

"As to you Lord Grantham. If you see any of the Townsends be sure to give them my best."

"It is a shame they couldn't take you back after the war. If you ever need a place of employment, please let me know. I would be happy to work something out when they cannot."

"That's very kind of you." He says locking eyes with Robert. As he moves to show Evan to the door I hurry over.

"I'll walk show him out my Lord." I say. Robert looks between us and nods.

"Thank you Thomas, I best be dressing anyway." The fella nods to him and we head silently to the door. I hear Bates' cane tap the floor. I look back and he is watching. Then follows Robert upstairs. I close the door and we step onto the driveway.

"Thank you for coming all this way just for a silly watch, Evan is it?"

"Yes, and please. It's not silly. That's a very nice make you have there." I rock on my toes and finger the thing in my pocket. The touch so familiar.

"It was my father's. He was a clockmaker."

"Did he make it?" I nod. "What a wonderful thing to have."

"Yes." It is the only thing he ever gave to me. We stand quiet.

"Well I best let you be on your way, Evan." He looks out to the lawn. At the same time I open my mouth to thank him again he starts to speak. We both smile and I tell him to speak.

"I'm certain you have better things to do with your day off, but you are welcome to join me for the evening. If you like. Seems we have a bit in common." I suppose he is right. Being ex footman and veterans and all. Though that's all we have in common I'm sure. He brought the watch back by hand out of kindness. Maybe even to get on Robert's good side in case a job does arise, I would do that. But spending the evening with another soldier can't hurt.

The setting sun giving a glow to his brown eyes. "I would like that. No one here understands what it was like out there." Evan nods.

"Only people like you can understand." He pats my shoulder and gestures to the road. I feel excited. And though I know this is born purely out of friendship, of commonalty, I let myself enjoy it. I would like a friend. I've learned that even if I can't have him in one way, another is just as well. A nice gentleman wanting to spend time with me? If only Carson could see. If I was foul no one would want to spend time with me. Carson. The others. I wonder if I should tell them I am leaving, but it's not their business to know. And no one would notice either.

As we walk the sun sets behind us. Our shadows blending into one another before fading entirely. "Glad to see you survived the day," I tease. He nods and smiles.

"I know I am new to the that job, but it seems that man uses any excuse to bark." I put my hands in my pockets.

"How long were you with the Townsends?"

"Several years. But since the war, finding a job is... it isn't easy."

"I understand. If it wasn't for the Gradnthoms, I dunno where I'd be."

"Enjoying your new title?" I furrow my brow as I don't recall telling him this.

"Robert tell you then?" He shakes his head.

"Heard about it, footman news gets around I suppose." He smiles and I nod.

"And yes, yes I am thank you." We step aside to let a married couple pass.

Look at us pair? I haven't gone out like this since the Carnival.

"Hungry are you? I haven't eaten since breakfast so please excuse me."

"Certainly." We head to the Swan House, never been there and even the name sounds a bit too high of a price. But it turns out to be affordable and nice inside. Strange white birds everywhere, on walls and tables. Surprisingly busy.

I sit across from him. We are the only man and man pair in the place, and I though I wish that could mean something. It doesn't. We both order a small meal as it is all we can get for what's in our pockets. While we wait we bring up the war but talk little of it, until we realize we were stationed at the same camp once. For two weeks, the place I was before my hand was blown to bits. Then he says something that makes me wonder.

"The funny thing is. I could swear I remember seeing you."

"Did you really?" Evan nods and licks his lip.

"When I saw you on the street today, it all came back. I remember because, well, we were in line for dinner. There wasn't much food that night and if you didn't come fast, there would be nothing at all. But a soldier was walking over and erupted into a coughing fit." I remember this night. The man fell over, convinced himself he couldn't breathe, that his lungs had given out and died. We all felt that at one point.

"He was so... terrified." The memory of the fear is his blue eyes haunts my sight.

"But you coaxed him out of his panic. And by the time he was all right, food was all gone." I tap my finger on the table, avoiding his gaze.

"Well what's maggot bread anyway." I say, finding myself abashed.

"Sacrificing food in war time is a great sacrifice indeed. I was going to bring you some food, but by the time I got over there you were gone." I spin the tip of my knife on the table.

"Funny the way things work out. Bloody miles from home, you see me there then I run into you here."

"Life is a funny thing." I nod.

"There's no denying that one." A woman brings us our plates.

We talk on through eating. Talk on till our food goes cold and we share a laugh about it. I learn he is a man of good talk. He is a man of kindness as he offers to pay for the meal. A man of luck for he has only a few scars from the war. A man of smarts for he paints pictures. Would do it for a living if only he could do it and live. He is a man of a good heart. For he asks me questions. I tell him the outskirts of myself. We talk of politics. We growl about inequality and on that matter, many glower at us for our heated voices. For our views are one in the same.

We talk on until we realize the looks they're giving us here are that it's closing time and we haven't budged. We give in and I pay my bit.

We step onto the streets. Nearly deserted as it is about 10. Cold and quiet. We walk and talk. I suddenly feel like I know him. After talking war, and of the night with the soldier, I feel like a comrade. I feel part of something again.

He gets it. He gets me.

"Thank you for joining me, Thomas. I hoped you enjoyed yourself."

"I certainly did. Might be some of the most fun I've had in a long while." His eyes are on mine and they smile when he smiles. Regular fellas say that, right?

"You've got a walk and an early day ahead of you, I best let you get on your way." He reaches his hand out and I take it. His palm is warm and grip firm.

"Perhaps I'll come in for a pint. On your break we can share war stories and frighten up your boss." I tease and his cheeks crease as he smiles.

"Sounds like a time to have. Until then," he nods.

"You know where to find me." I let go of his hand and turn about. Heading down the road. A rat scatters across the quiet street. I hear the fella's footsteps fade into the distance. Evan. The image of his smile is in me head. A lovely smile, but it bounces off the stone wall around my heart like raindrops. I've learned not to let them in. From man or woman. And from friends of his look especially. It only make things worse. We cannot be more than that, but is he a Friend? I'd like to think so.

"Well Thomas, looks like you've got yourself a proper friend." I say to the empty road. I light a cigarette and watch the moonlight bleed through the thin gray haze I've created.

I've slipped inside past Mrs. Patmore and in bed before midnight. I sleep well. And I dream not of the war for the first time in months.

* * *

_**Author's note:**_ Please review! And if you'd like a face for Evan, I imagine him played by Luke Evans (if that isn't already very obvious ;) )


	2. Night At The Festival

It's funny for I am one of the first downstairs in the morning. I awoke easy. I sit now dressed for the day at the table. Mrs. Patmore is peeling potatoes. The spilling of the water from the faucet and the patter of the peels landing in the bowl the only sounds. Even the wrinkling of me newspaper sounds loud. I break the silence, glancing about.

"Unusual quiet morning it is." Mrs. Patmore glances over her shoulder at me. "How're you?" Her peeling pauses and I could swear she chuckles.

"Just fine, Thomas. Surprised to see you up before the boys." I wrinkle my brow. "You being out late and all." I finger the corner of the paper.

"Ah. I slept well is all." She must have seen me come in.

"You with that man who came by?"

"Yes."

"Were ya?" She prompts.

"He was a footman. And in the war, we have a lot in common." I say flatly.

"Do ya now." Her back is turned but I could swear her tone tells me she is smiling. This confuses me and I feel my walls going up.

"Is it wrong for me to have a friend?" I snip. She sets the knife down. Turns to face me, glancing about the empty room before speaking.

"No need to bite Thomas. Alls I'm saying, is that was an awful long walk for him just to bring you your watch, Thomas." She raises her brow before dumping the peeled potatoes on the counter. Looking like a pile of diced snowballs. I tap my fingers on the table. What does she mean.

"Not really. He's a good man and that's what they do."

"I'm sure he is. But the type of good man he is, that matters, Thomas. I never saw him, but by the girls' talk of him it's a funny thing to see someone like him unmarried at his age." My heart jumps and I fix my eyes onto a knot in the wood of the table.

"The war makes things like that difficult." Her voice is low now.

"Ah yes I'm sure. I can't imagine. But perhaps there's another reason." She looks at me till she pulls my eyes from the table and I meet them. I feel strange. Why is saying this.

"I find that unlikely." She screams Ivy's name, resting a hand on her hip.

"And you think finding unlikely things is, unlikely in this house? You haven't learned a thing, boy." When Ivy scurries into the room Patmore orders her to prepare the potatoes.

"What's this?" O'Brien says as she slithers in the room, looking at me and Patmore with that look. The one she wears when she pretends she isn't eavesdropping. I rise, folding my paper and meet her gaze.

"Try that face on someone who didn't teach it to ya." I leave the room and go out.

The sun is still rising. And my breath clouds the air like sea fog. Did I think it was off the fella, Evan, doing all that. Sure. Maybe a little. But it can't mean what she means. Can't mean what a part of me has always yearned for. But with that carrot top, she won't say it unless she means it. Something I've liked about her. But what if she be saying it just to get me high enough that I'll fall down so badly I break. For that's what if feels like will happen as my heart beats faster. If I believe them I'll get to the top and tumble back next time I see him. For I'm sure that's not in his mind. In his heart. And I won't allow the thought of perhaps she being right and I wrong until he says it's so. And since that would never happen, I push it all out and light a cigarette. If I hear nothing from him in the next month. I'll know that's all it is to be. Nothing.

* * *

The next few days are usual. From dinner conversations I can tell Edith has some sort of new man, who with her luck, or nose I should say, won't be around long enough for the seasons to change. Mary is quiet, as she has been for months now. Sometimes she doesn't come down for dinner. Sometimes Branson doesn't. At times the house feels half empty.

I spend some time with Jimmy a few nights, playing cards. Things are good with us now. It's been very nice.

"How was your day off?" He asks with less enthusiasm a snail. I can tell by his curling lip he has a shatty hand of cards. I on the other hand I do not. I smirk.

"Great. Just lovely actually. How you spending yours? Tomorrow isn't it?" I put down a card that sends him flying off his seat and his cards to the floor.

"By playing cards with someone worse than you." Jimmy marches off.

"Sore loser never gets anywhere."

"Oh yeah then why am I going to get the last piece of cake?" He taunts over his shoulder, gesturing to Mrs. Patmore who is serving up the leftovers. I jump up and hurry after him.

* * *

It's been over 2 weeks now since I met the fella. And his face hasn't left me. His kindness. And neither have Mrs. Patmore's words. In this world what she said is all one can say without, well, out right saying it. What if she is right. I again push her words to the gutter and continue polishing the dishes.

I have received no telegram from Evan. Not that he said he would. But he could have, if he wanted to, but that's when I get something in the mail.

I look it during lunch:

_Friday evening I have no work. The Fall Festival is in town. If your lot comes down I'll be waiting to beat you at game of horseshoes. _

_ **Evan Luke **_

I smile and re-read the note several times. He did write. Just in time from it being a month. I've decided not to try and figure him out. If he's different, I'll know. But I am not going for it unless I know.

Everyone's so busy chatting away they don't notice me letter. Except for Jimmy who is still sour from losing cards.

"What have you got there?" I tilt the letter to my chest.

"A letter from a friend." I notice O'Brien look at me. "Inviting me to the festival."  
"Festival...?" Carson growls.  
"Yes." I answer sharply, meeting his gaze. Daisy pipes up like a tea pot.  
"I heard about it! In the papers! They've got pumpkin throwing and green juice!"  
"Green juice?" Carson says as if Daisy said she's going starkers.  
"Something to do with the festival... I think." She says like a mouse quietly grabbing a roll before the cat sees.  
"Are you planning on _going_ to this festival? With this, friend?" He asks. I keep my eyes on him, unblinking.  
"I just might."  
"If he gets, permission." Mrs. Hughes jumps in. "I do say, Mr. Carson, it does look like a bit of fun. Might do us all some good to do down there after everything we've been through as of late." Carson is quiet, face red like the tomato on his plate. Anna straightens, looking from Carson to Hughes.  
"Lady Mary did say I should go. For she didn't have the heart to. And if you'd permit, I'd like to go. For her." Carson is quiet, before waving his hand.  
"One night. Go." There's a quiet sigh of smiles around the table, and I carefully put the note in my pocket. Eagerly awaiting the following evening.

* * *

I change my vest twice. If I had two coats I'd be picking between them. Dunno why I'm being so fussy. No real reason. Well, I know there is it but it isn't worth thinking of.

I pull Alfred's hat down over his face when we're going on the door. He grumbles but I hear Jimmy laugh. That's enough for me. Daisy and Ivy are walking together, wearing their fancy things. Not doing much for them though. Carson herds us out the door with warning words of our bedtimes. The old man.

The festival is smaller than the one this summer, but takes up most of the center of the village. Booths and games, even one of them spinning horse rides. I don't much care for them. But I only notice these things while scanning the crowd for the fella. Evan, I should say. The boys go off, the girls are gaggling over what to do first. Patmore taps me shoulder.

"I believe that's who you're looking for?" She points to Evan, my chest jumps. He is dressed in dark pant and coat, a blue vest. I like it but hide it on me face and nod.

"Suppose you're right then."

"You know him Thomas?" Daisy asks, and the hope in her tone makes me want to throw a sharp no at her pinchy face to back her off. But then my pride of knowing him comes out instead.

"That I do."

"Oh, isn't he handsome. Anna was right." I catch a flow of insults with my teeth, knowing they might give me away. Patmore looks from him to the girls, chuckling.

"I don't think he takes to girls Daisy." Daisy looks like she just ate raw fish.

"I am woman, thank you. If that's how you mean." The look on Ivy's face tells me she gets what Patmore means. Gets what she means... does Patmore truly mean that then? I tense.

"You mean... he fancies the boys?" Ivy says like Patmore just revealed she's a phantom.

"I'm not saying no more only he won't be having any looks at you two." I try to look indifferent.

"Is that so," Ivy says, chuffed, "then whys he looking at me?" I glance over and Evan's eyes look this way.

"It's not you he's looking at." Patmore gives me a look and ushers the girls to move on. Before stepping back to say.

"What you doin' standing there? Well go on." She gestures to Evan, I suddenly feel like a school boy on a first day without his books. I don't like acting like Patmore and I be friends. Though out of anyone, she's all right.

And the uncertainty spiraling my chest throws these words out in a whisper.

"I'm not going to pretend I don't know what you're saying." Her brow goes up. "But do you say it because you mean it. That you think he..."

"You'd know better than I Thomas, but lady men don't often stay out till the moon goes up with another lady man. Invite him to festivals. Bring him—"

"Yes, yes..." I say stopping her words for I feel myself go pink. "I knew you what you were the day you came." I look away. "And I was right about that wasn't I?" She turns about and follows the girls into the fair.

I stand with unsure feet. That small ember of hope that he could be like me is sparking into a flame, tickling my bones like firewood. But it's his voice calling my name that pulls me from me head and moves me onward.

That's when I see the woman beside him.

When my heart starts to fall I catch it quickly, but its so hot that I want to throw the flames at the woman through my words. Not mean, really. Just me.

"Whose this?" I ask with me smug face. He introduces her as a friend of his, she was a nurse in the war. Then she starts blabbering on about nothing, talking about what a great soldier Evan must have been. Must have been. She's just guessing. She doesn't know him. So I agree. Tell her smashen face he was, but my mouth throws out everything else I know about him. Making sense with the conversation of course. But enough to leave her quieter and quieter, I could swear I see Evan smiling at me as I go. And eventually, that's what she does. Goes.

Evan turns to me.

"Thank you, for doing whatever you did to get her to leave."

"I'm rather good at that I'm afraid." I tease, though I mean it.

"She's a kind woman." I tense up, eyes on him. "But she won't understand I don't fancy her."

"I've been in that bucket before." He raises his brow.

"I can see why." He gives me a funny look. Locking my eyes and giving me a quick look over. I curl my fingers in and look away. I think Patmore may be right.

The words fall out.

"Do you, have a special lady? If you don't mind me asking." There are many people about. And a group of them close as a man keeps bumping into me.

His voice is low. "Ladies aren't my specialty." He winks and my heart skips. He gestures towards a booth. I follow behind. Trying not to let show everything inside.

We play horseshoes. It's a matched battle, but he wins. Though when we walk away, he hands me the silver horseshoe prize. I slip it in my pocket with a thank you. I keep reassuring myself no one will think a thing of two gentlemen walking about the fair together. As Jimmy and Alfred are doing the same. Ivy, Daisy, Patmore and all the rest close behind them. And O'Brien? Must've come down all separate like. She's wearing a sneer, but then again that's just her face. As I look away I could swear her eyes land on me for a moment like a nasty fly. I turn away and she's gone.

We laugh and share the light stuff from the war, the few funny encounters we had in the trenches, and talk more of the years since. Again, I don't notice the suns gone down and there are less people about until I realize Evan's face is less visible. His dark eyes black in the night, but that just adds an attractive mystery to his already carved face. When he catches me staring between words, not as much as catch as he does notice, I feel his hand on my back. He nods towards the river and we walk. I lost sight of the boys and women folk hours ago. So I let them lose sight of me as we leave the light and head down a path adjacent to a road. No one is here. We walk farther down, the fair becoming distant.

We walk until the fair is silent. The woods have grown about us, though the road is still near.

We stop in a grove of trees. Invisible. Frogs croak and the water laps at the rocks as it trails beside us. We haven't said a word since we left the fair. Not wanting to draw attention.

"Lovely river." I say, rocking on my toes. I see his eyes on me as moon's light touches his cheeks. He takes off his hat and nods.

"Yes. It is. Thomas, I-" I tense but keep my eyes on him, arms at my sides tight as iron. Heart is shaking from I don't know what. "I hope you know... know that I meant it when I said ladies are not my specialty." I feel his fingers touch my shoulder, his palm warm against the cool wool of my coat. My excitement at his words and touch sends my smile up.

I say with a flirtatious tone, "what is your specialty then, Mr. Luke?" He steps closer. Grasping my hand. Eyes tied to mine.

"I'm hoping you can tell me that, Mr. Barrow." His finger rubs the back of my hand. Knowing how rare a moment like this is, for our kind of sorts, I step closer to him. His breath is against my lips. I whisper.

"I'm hoping I can too." He leans in and our lips touch. His lips tell me this is okay. I lean into it. The kiss sends my body and mind spiraling like leaves in a warm wind. Tickling my senses all their way down. The cold of the night and the world around is gone in that moment. I forget about the danger of the eyes of others. I am only aware of the warmth of his lips and touch of his hand.

When I pull away we smile. He speaks.

"I'm sorry if I was too forward."

"If you're forward than I'm so forward and landing on me face." He smirks.

"It's just that, moments like these..."

"Are all too rare." I finish, he nods, face reddened.

"Especially with someone like you, Thomas."

"Oh," I say bashfully. He sees me different. So very different.

Playfully he places his hat on my head. I chuckle when it falls off. I catch it, running my fingers on the soft rim.

"If you don't mind me asking. How did you know?... 'bout me." He nods. My hand is still in his.

"I've seen you before. Then I recognized you in the war, and in town."

"You must have a good sense for our sort of men. Better than I clearly." I worry that will make him wonder strangely and I regret saying it.

He is quiet before speaking.

"Not to sound odd, but that's another reason I knew. I heard something about you and a footman, at Downton..." Now he looks like he regrets saying what he just said. And his words feel like cold rain.

"Did you? Embarrassment cannot begin to suffice for that-"

"Mistake. It happens. But as queer as it sounds, when I heard about it, it gave me hope. I knew you were like me. And hoped if perhaps we could meet..." He shrugs with a smile. "It brought me to you." I suppose he is right. However he heard about it did make this happen. And the shadow of shame on my face fades. My smile is back.

"I suppose you're right." I lean my face close to his again. "Life is a funny thing isn't it."

We kiss again. Longer this time. It's been years since I've been kissed like this. But it's been never that I've had one that feels like this. There is passion between our lips. I am hot though the night is cold. I feel my insides twirl with that pleasured sensation of touch.

I let his hat fall to the grass as I grasp his face with both my hands. His arms are now around me, pulling me closer. We're pressed together so tight, like we're part of each other. His hand travels down my back. Making me kiss him all the harder. Then peel off his coat as he tugs off mine.

We melt to the ground like a candle, our bodies wax giving into the heat. I am on top of him. We share a laugh.

"Let us pray we are far enough away from-" But I cut off his words with a kiss. He begins to undo my vest. My shirt. His hands warm as they slip inside my gaping shirt. Around my back. I am quick at this and his chest is bare in a moments kisses my neck as he takes off my belt. I start to undo his when his hands leap to mine, stopping them as I hear him hush me. "Did you hear that?" I pause, tilting my ear towards town.

"Probably just a-"

"Thomas?" A voice rings out. It is so familiar. So aggravating than I curse and pound the dirt, flying off Evan like rabbit. A proper cross rabbit. We both are in a panic a we fix our clothing. I button my shirt as quickly as my fingers will move. We are both looking about as if on patrol for Germans. That's what if feels like. Only its just a flower. A Daisy. She calls out again, I hear another voice talk quietly with her.

"Go." Evan says quickly. I see the fear in his eyes. I panic as I realize I've lost me belt. I hear their footsteps now. I've got no time to look. "Go!" Evan whispers like a knife. Shoving me towards the road. "If you come out they won't suspect as much." I look to him one last time for reassurance. He nods. Knowing he's probably right. I slick my hair and smooth my vest and coat, calling out to Daisy before appearing on the road.

"Daisy," I say looking innocent. Alfred is also with her. "I must have fallen asleep, the river is calming."

"You're a nutter Thomas, it's freezing out here. Come on, we was looking for ya before going back up." I notice Alfred look me over, but he doesn't look suspicious. Why was he with her instead of Bates. Or Anna. I am tense and walk up to them.

"Ah, you didn't need to do that. I was just keeping to myself for a bit. Sorting some things out." Daisy groans and pulls her coat tighter around herself. I glance to the treeline, Evan is invisible if he's still there at all.

"Sort them out as we go, we'll catch our death. Come on."

Alfred sighs and takes off his coat, handing it to Daisy. "Here." He glances to me. "Women folk. Always cold I could swear it. O'Brien was just going on about it too."

"O'Brien?" I say. Alfred nods.

"She's right you know. Sending us off to look for you like this, you could have been frozen she said."

"Did she?" The pieces are coming together. This was no accidental finding. And there is a reason she sent this naive pair out. But I smile, because what she was hoping for didn't happen. She didn't win.

"Big man like me, I'd be all right. I'll have to thank her for her worry." We walk off. When they aren't looking, I steal a glance behind me. Evan is no where in sight. We meet up with O'Brien, Anna and Bates. All standing at the nearly deserted fair. All three of them have a different look upon seeing me. Anna looks like she's hiding something, so does Bates. Perhaps not hiding something. But like they know something. O'Brien looks like a shoe but that's not new, but she also be wearing that face. The one where she tries to look all innocent like. Please.

"Oh, Thomas. I'm so glad you're all right." She says, lifting her chin. I lock her gaze and smile.

"Was just taking a walk that's all. No need for panic."

"Oh? I disagree." She says, folding her arms across her chest. "Never know what could happen in those woods." Bates steps over as we start to head for home.

"It's good you walk back with us. Or else Carson might ask." He gives me a longer look than needed and suddenly I feel like me shirts still undone. I fall behind on purpose, and for a moment so does O'Brien. Now she's got the face I know. The proud one.

"Seems you lost your belt while walking." I hate it but that gives me a start. I try not to let it show as I realize she is right.

"Didn't wear it down." I say without looking at her.

"Did ya now?" Furious I ignore her and catch up with Alfred. I pretend like I care that he won every game.

Everyone else is heading to bed when we get back. Carson counting us like we're his bloody chicks. Patmore looks on from the kitchen as I pass. We make eye contact for a moment. But I say a word to no one and go to bed. Locking the door as if to keep everyone out from my head. My feelings.

When I close my eyes a thousand things bounce about in me head. No one saw a thing. O'Brien is the only one who suspects. And I only fall asleep knowing her word is empty when it comes to accusations. As is mine most of the time. But I've been better off then her lately.

I hope that Evan got home without being seen. I hope he really does fancy me. For what I feel when I think of his face. His touch.

I am overly joyed with it. Even though for men like us, you're putting your life at stake. But without it, there is no life so might as well stake it.

The next morning I walk in for breakfast. I'm a few minutes behind everyone else whose already sitting. I head to an empty seat when O'Brien pipes up from behind her coffee.

"See you found your belt." That makes me stop. I slowly look to her, mad at the redness I feel going to my cheeks.

"Found his belt?" Carson growls, I feel his eyes on me so I look to him.

"I'm not sure what she's going on about Mr. Carson. I haven't lost a thing." I smile all I can and sit down. Carson makes a satisfied or something like grunt. The man makes more noises than a bloody rooster. When I finish eating, O'Brien rises and follows after me. Stopping before me for a moment.

"You haven't lost a thing yet, you meant I'm sure." Her half smile is what disgusts me the most.

"Intimidation doesn't work on me, O'Brien. And neither does that thing you call a smile." I shove past her and head down the hall.

* * *

**_Please review! Thank you to those who have!_ **


	3. Midnight Kiss

Later when walking out for a smoke, a red in the face Patmore stops me.

"Enjoy yourself at the festival last night, Thomas?" She says knowingly. She can't really care. Perhaps just wants to know she was right, maybe she does. Dunno.

"Very much so." I say before slipping into the afternoon.

* * *

Evan is on my mind at every free moment. The week goes as usual, but Edith has some man over and that starts a real rumpus. Shouldn't they be happy a man likes her at all.

* * *

The days get colder as autumn keeps coming. I wonder when I can see Evan again.

* * *

One afternoon between meals, there's a bit of quiet. I sit at the table, Alfred, Bates and O'Brien are there.

"How's your friend." I look at her like I don't know who she be talking about. I feel Bates look up at us. "The one who so kindly invited you to the fair."

"Ah. Just great."

"Is he now?" I keep my eyes on her and clench my jaw.

"He seemed very nice." Bates jumps in, to my surprise. I glance to him and nod. Though I don't remember seeing him interact with Evan.

"He is." Is all I say. But O'Brien's tone and gaze is hungry for disaster. But I won't let her have it, and won't let her get the pride of sensing any fear in me. "He was stationed with me in the war. He was a soldier. You wouldn't understand it." I snip to her as she scorns at me over her sloppy sewing job.

"No. I don't think I want to understand his type of soldier." Alfred looks between us with that confused dog face he's always got on. Luckily Bates gets his attention with something.

* * *

It's been 2 weeks or so since the fair. Patmore needs someone to run into the village to exchange an ingredient for tonight. I jump at the chance. I've been waiting for one of these.

I stop at the store and get her spice thing. And as quickly as I can, pop into the Hogs Brew. Even just to catch a glimpse of Evan's face. But my heart falls when I don't see him in. I turn about and leave, angry about the trip being pointless.

When a voice calls me name. I look about when I see a man in an alley. Evan. I can't help the smile on me face and stride towards him. His hair is smooth like a raven's back and expression playful.

"What brings you out? Not another day off is it?" Evan asks, rising from the makeshift stool. He's wearing an apron. He is on a break.

I shake my head. "If only. Getting this for our cook." I hold up the bag.

"That was good of you." I meet his eyes before glancing away.

"Well, was waiting for a chance to see you, even if just for a moment." I'm almost embarrassed to say it. But his gentle smile brings my eyes back to his.

"I see." He looks about, we're a bit in off the street, between two buildings. Still I make sure to keep my distance, hands behind me."What about another moment. Tomorrow night." He twists the fabric on his apron.

"It'd be late." I say.

"Better late then never. And the never part is not an option." I smirk, locking his gaze.

"Suppose it's settled then." He nods.

"Come out when you're finished for the night. There's an old barn. Blue with white chipping paint. The one before the bridge between here and the Granthams?" I nod.

"I'll be there." I wish I could touch him. So I do, he reaches an arm out and we shake hands. And the slightest rub on my wrist by his soft hand makes me pause. Our eyes are locked. I give it a squeeze before stepping away quickly. I don't want to draw any eyes. So I tip my hat and leave. Making a comment like we're ending a conversation about the weather.

The walk back is swift and I make note of the time it takes to get from the barn to the house. Not long. Less than half an hour surely.

Patmore takes her spice and sends her hens to work. It's strange. Except for that wench O'Brien I feel funny around everyone. Like they sense something is different. And I am unsure if that is my paranoia at them knowing about Evan, or perhaps I am acting differently. I wonder if it is the latter. For I pass Anna the following day, accidentally bumping into her.

"I'm so sorry." I say. I find myself smiling. Then I notice her different hair. Though it's tied back it's got this funny wave in it. So I mention it. "Bates like the new hair?" She smiles and keeps her eyes on me.

"Yes. I'm trying out new styles for Lady Mary." She pauses, smiling. "Surprised you noticed. You know, you're much better to be with lately, Thomas. Whatever you've been up to is doing you good." She teases. I'm caught off guard by her comment and nod.

"Good things, that's all." We smile and continue on. That was odd. But brings me back to my wondering. Perhaps I am acting different. I haven't felt the need to snap like a fire or show my teeth to anyone the past few weeks. Well, not too often anyway. I feel lighter, perhaps there is less anger inside of me. Less sorrow that weighs a body. It is doing me good.

That night I am doing work later than I wanted. Much later. And Carson won't stop hounding me on it. I want to snap at the old fool but I know that would only keep me here longer. Polishing silver. Dusting the shelves for the silver. Can't this bloody stuff wait. It's nearly 11 and I am rushing, accidentally knocking over the dishes with the loudest bloody clatter. Carson scolding me like a boy. I don't look at him for fear of slicing him with my words so I re-polish. And stack. And don't head out till nearly 12. I am furious. And worried I have missed Evan. When no one is about I leave my room.

A door opens on the ladies side but I ignore it and head out. Slipping into the night like a cat.

I rush to the barn. The grass is damp on me pants. The night air cold. I get to the old wooden thing and look about. I see no one in the moonlight. What if Evan thought I didn't come on purpose. I curse in me head, it would all be Carson's fault. Demanding we do the polishing for a stinking dinner for next week. I don't give a rat how important it is. This is important. And I think I've lost it. I walk about and peek inside the place. It is dark and nearly creepy. But I go in anyway. The place creaks but is silent. I turn to leave when a pair of hands slip over my eyes. My first instinct is to fight the person away, I flinch, but the sound of Evan's voice keeps my arms at my sides. The tricky bugger.

"Sorry. But I had to." He whispers in my ear. He moves to take his hands off my eyes but I press mine against his.

"No. I think this is fun."

"Yes?" His breath is hot against my neck. All my worries. All my anger about Carson are a century away. "What about this?" His lips gently press to my cheek. I smile.

"I don't mind that too much either." I feel his breath against my skin in a laugh. I pull his hands off my eyes but keep them in my grip, meeting his eyes over my shoulder. The moonlight breaks into the barn through the cracking walls. Highlighting Evan's cheekbones.

"You're a beautiful fella." I say. I slowly turn to face him. Our vest buttons touching. And kiss him again. We only break apart to face each other, and he says.

"I'll be your fella, if you'll be mine." I answer with a kiss and we don't stop. Our clothes become a heap on the floor as we become lovers.

* * *

I lie with my head on his chest. His heartbeat is in my ear like a drum. I kiss his breast where I feel it beating. He strokes my hair.

"You should get home. You need to get some sleep before working all day." I let out a sigh, knowing he is right but why would I ever leave something like this for that.

"Please, a good nights sleep won't get me through a day." I tilt my head to look at him. "But this will." His eyes crinkle as he smiles.

"You're a gentleman." I smile. I can't remember the last time I've been called that. Only a string of other awful names.

"If I'm a gentleman than you're a saint." We kiss and are quiet for a moment.

"Are you certain you got out unseen, and that you can get back in?" I lie on my belly.

"Of course. I'm good at what I do Mr. Luke." He smiles.

"Yes you are."

I give in when the moon tells me it's around 3. As me watch is in my pants somewhere across the place. We dress and embrace.

"Come to my house." He says. "Not now of course. But I want you to see my paintings." I nod.

"I'd like that. My day off is soon enough." He steps closer, the moonlight pooling in his dark eyes that are still yet warmer than any I've ever seen.

"And yet so far." His lips say goodbye. We walk home.

I am smiling. I am happy. I feel like someone else. I haven't felt this way about someone since the Duke. But not even close to that bastard. He beat me with his words. Evan is, Evan is everything. I feel light in my step. The tingle is a stranger to me, but I feel special. I feel loved.

As I come upstairs I am silent. But I am startled when I see the silhouette of someone in the glass door between the ladies and men's side. Who in their right bloody head would be up at this hour. That's when I know it. Only O'Brien. I don't stay long enough to work out the shape of the person and slip into my room. The door shutting louder than I mean to.

Can I not have happiness for longer than an hour. A heartbeat. Why is she doing this. Because Jimmy and I are friends now? Because I won? I won't let her win. I will keep her mouth shut whatever it takes. I am furious now. That was her door opening when I left. I know it. I can't sleep and I don't sleep. I have only just started to doze when I heard footsteps in the hall. Jimmy's voice. It is morning. I curse. I cannot let her win.

Having looked in the mirror, I look as awful as I feel. My heart is anxious. I feel like the world is about to steal it. And I know that's coming from being afraid of what I have with Evan and what might take it away from me. Or who might. I hate feeling afraid. It has pulled be about me my whole life like a noose.

I come downstairs.

That's when I see Carson and O'Brien. At the bottom of the stairs like two snotting dogs waiting to pounce. I pause in my step. My insides are a slipping knot.

"Mr. Barrow." Carson says. I steal a glance at the witch and her subtle smug expression clenches my fist around the railing.

"What is it Mr. Carson?" I get out.

"May I please have a word." Fear is locking my feet to the floor like nails.

"Of course." I say and walk down. I don't look at O'Brien. Only when Carson tells her she may go. I know where she's going. Next door where she can hear all of this. Hear her victory. Had she followed me? Tracked me like a bloody hound? She has her fox cornered and it makes me feel horrid. Carson closes the door.

"Mrs. O'Brien tells me you left your room last night." His blue eyes are on me. But as I meet them, there is not the disgust I am awaiting.

"A man is allowed the toilets after dark is he not." He grunts.

"Yes. Though she tells me you left the house and came back just a few hours ago." My hand curls. Knowing the smirk O'Brien has in the next room. Knowing this could be the end of everything. My work. My life.

"That's silly." I manage to say without meeting his eyes.

"That is what I thought." That brings my eyes up to his. "She says you left your room twice. Or in her words, sneaked out like a burglar." He sounds almost amused. "But seeing as the ladies cannot access nor see the men's rooms, I worry this is just another one of you two's battle that I do not want interfering with work nor my time. But if you had anything to say on the matter," his brow is low as he locks my gaze. Though I don't think he senses a thing. But if O'Brien knew where I was off to, why didn't she tell him?

That's what scares me the most.

"She is right in that I left me room. I walked. I couldn't sleep." Carson rises.

"That much is clear." He stares at me face. "And we both know leaving the house in the night is not to be tolerated. And I'd think a man like you, where toleration is needed in excess wouldn't dream of doing. Isn't that right." His words slice through the air. My gratitude is swept away and I hold my tongue at his words.

"Yes, Mr. Carson. Wouldn't dream of it." I paint a smile over my anger, the seconds feeling like minutes. It is not his warning that sends me on edge but his words. We both know what he means by 'a man like you'. And that stokes a fire in me. He tells me I can go. I leave silently and take a moment in the hall. Trying to collect my emotions in one place when O'Brien's sly voice slips around me like a cold wind.

"Scared?" I look to her. My heart is pounding.

"Watch yourself." I say, walking past her as fast as I can. But her skeletal grip yanks me back.

"It's not me that should be doing the watching. Be careful Thomas. You never know who is around." I yank my arm from her grip and whisk myself outside for a smoke. I lean my head against the wall. Why did I ever think this could happen. How. Especially for me. I was a fool to think it could. A fool to think love can overcome anything.

_Love_.

The realization floods my eyes with tears and I slap them away like flies. She cannot win. She will not win.

But I'm so afraid that she will.

* * *

**_Please review!_**


	4. My Fella

I get a letter days later. Bates calls me over.

"Thank you." I say hollow as a burned tree. I feel back to my normal self, a constant low spell. Bates pauses as he hands it over.

"I don't want to get involved." Bates says.

"So don't." I snip. He lowers his brow.

"Please ,Thomas, spare me one moment." I clench my jaw. "Just be careful. That's all I will say. You don't want to loose everything."

"You think I do?" I snap. I take a moment. He is trying to be kind. "Why do you care?" I say without looking at him.

"Because you need someone that does." I fiddle with the envelope in my sweating palm. "Prison is not a kind place, Thomas." He leaves. I stand alone at the end of the hall. I feel like I am holding something untouchable. Like it might burn me. I stuff the thing away. I manage the day as best I can.

When nightfall comes I open the letter. Happiness and terror fill my chest. His words are so sweet. All I want to do is see him. But I feel I've lost me way, and I'm worried that path is going to be hard to get back on. My boots are in the mud and I don't know if I should pull myself out, or let myself sink.

For I feel I couldn't move from my bed if I tried. I hold onto Evan's letter, the horseshoe he gave me, and fall asleep.

I haven't a clue what to do. I feel like hounds will rip him to shreds if I write to him. I couldn't let anything harm him. But I am bringing that to him. I am harm. Every bit of me wants to fight O'Brien. But I worry the more I do, the more danger I bring Evan. This is making me go mad. The injustice. The power she has over me. The whole lot of it.

* * *

I walk down the hall, towards the damn silver closet again. Anna reaches a hand out as I pass.

"Thomas, I was wondering if you could-"

"Find someone else." I bark without looking at her. I turn to go into the closet, and when I glance a glare at Anna her faces reads disappointment. Doesn't she know. Happiness and I aren't friends for long.

* * *

I don't know what will happen but I compose a letter. Leaving it below my pillow. I finish the day and wait to send it till tomorrow. In the letter I tell him of my day off. When I return to send it off, I could swear it's been moved. But it could just be me seeing my paranoia.

* * *

"What you gonna do with your day?" Jimmy asks as he irons the newspaper. I fiddle with my pocket watch. Holding it tight.

"Trip into the village. I know how to keep busy." Jimmy sneers and glances towards Carson's room.

"So does he. Told me I had to re-iron this." He narrows his eyes at the paper.

"Try going the other way." He nods to me as I leave.

I don't see O'Brien. I haven't at all today in fact. I try not to let that get to me but it crawls in my skull like a worm.

When in the village I walk to his place. It is small and off a side street. I see him in the window before I knock. Nervous. But the smile on his face brings me away from the fear for a moment. It pulls me inside and into his arms. Where I stay for nearly a minute. I don't want to bring my face from his shoulder. I don't want to leave him. The scent of his coat. The warmth of his embrace. The quiet he gives me as I latch onto him like moss to a rock.

"Are you all right?" He asks when I finally break away. The worry in his eyes makes my heart sink.

"No."

"Thomas please." He pulls me into a seat beside him. "Did someone say something to you?" I hold his hand, squeezing it without realizing I am.

"This isn't safe. What we're doing." I manage to say. "I-" My tongue stops. I don't know what I want to say. I feel like I'm moving stones with a broom to get the words out. "It's too dangerous." He licks his lip.

"Thomas. I know-"

"You don't know." I snap. "People are cruel, Evan. Someone knows. Someone, who shouldn't." I hear Evan's breathing pause before he sighs, running a hand over his face. I see he has blue speckles on his fingers. He has been painting. I find that so lovely, so sweet that I take a long shuttering breath.

"Will they tell?" He says. Meeting my gaze heavily. I feel tears growing behind my eyes and one escapes.

"I don't know." Evan moves to sit beside me, I want to fall into his arms as much as I do throw them away as he wraps one around me. I notice a wet unfinished painting of a man sitting on an easel. Evan notices my eye. "Were you painting?" I ask, trying to keep my tone strong. I want to think of something else, even just for a second. Not of what I am doing. What I am ending.

"Yes." He says after silence. "That's you." At the realization that the painting resembles my face, I realize what talent he has. I realize what a man he is. How good of a man he is. How kind, how sweet to have done that. I realize all the kind things he has done, words that made me feel like I deserve to be happy. Deserve someone like him. When I don't. I realize how much I care.

I realize I love him.

I have been crying more than I thought, as my cheeks are damp when I wipe them. I feel Evan's hand upon my face.

"Thomas please, don't cry. This doesn't have to end." That's when I see his dark eyes begin to sparkle. God help me if he cries. "Please." The plead and worry in his tone makes my heart shatter, throwing my anger, my sadness and my love out of my mouth in rushed words.

"Yes it does, Evan. Who were we to think it was possible? It has," I take a shaking breath "to end. It isn't worth it." Evan opens his mouth to speak, I feel his hand squeeze mine but I jerk it away, leaping to my feet. "I'm not worth it, Evan! I'm not one bit!" Evan rises and shakes his head.

"Don't say that."

"It's true. I'm not a good person Evan! Everyone knows it. I am trouble." I wipe my nose. "You don't know me." I step back as he reaches to touch me.

"Thomas. I think I-" There is anger in his tone, matching mine as I shake my head. But the sadness in his face makes me gasp for air like there's none of it in the room.

"No." I struggle to breath. My own words staking my heart as much as they do his. "Goodbye Evan." I spin about, knocking over several cans of paint. It was an accident, but I don't look back, hoping it will make things easier if he thinks it wasn't. I hear him calling my name, shouting it. He yanks on my coat but I keep walking. Out the door and into the street. I can't look back. Not that I'd see a thing. Tears blind my sight. As does my sorrow. I could walk into a fire and not know it. I feel like doing so. Like never coming back to whatever this world is.

I hear a someone call to me. I ignore it. Then again, closer. Suddenly there is a cold hand on shoulder, I spin about.

"Come here you sick bastard!" A man pulls violently on my collar. I try to fight him, but I am dragged behind a building. I hardly realize what is going on before he slams me against a wall. That's when I recognize him. The man whom yelled at Evan, the man who owns the Hogs Head.

I move to fight back when he kicks me in the gut. He shouts insults. Calling me inhuman. Foul. Wretched. His fist slams against my jaw, my nose, making my wheezing all the worse. If I try I could easily overpower him, but the will in me is not there. A kick in the groin makes me collapse.

"You should be hanged." He spits on me. I am panting, looking up at him through a mess of hair.

"I'll try it sometime." He glares, looking like he'll kick again when I see someone appear down the alley. Oh God.

"Hey!" Evan screams. Though his back is to Evan, as soon as the man hears the shout he doesn't look back. Bolting out the other side. Evan runs to me.

"Thomas!" He kneels before me, overlooking my injuries. Brow knitted tight and worry flooding his face. "Are you all right?" Perhaps it is from being beat over the head, but the whole situation is amusing. I start to smile and Evan appears confused. I wipe blood from my lips before speaking, meeting his eyes.

"Told you I was trouble." He flashes a smile before pulling out a handkerchief and pressing it to my nose.

"Let's get you home."

I take a moment to breathe before using Evan as a crutch. It takes a while but we get back to Downton. I don't know if it a good or bad thing, but we are spotted by Robert. Isis leaps towards us happily, drawing Robert's attention.

"Good God!" He shouts, dropping his cane. "Thomas, what has happened?!" He reaches us and I wave him away, trying to stand up tall. But I've been feeling more weak by the second.

"Please, my Lord. Don't worry yourself."

"Too late I'm already there." He looks me over and nods to Evan. "Thank you for helping him, Mr. Luke is it?" Evan nods. "Carson!" He shouts over his shoulder. The butler appears at the door, giving the scene a second look. "Ask Mrs. Hughes to prepare water and towels." He nods and vanishes. When Robert looks back, I know he is going to ask what happened. I am tempted to say. Say it all. When Evan speaks, adjusting his grip on me.

"Thomas was at the restaurant I work at, when a man who'd been drinking since we opened attacked him. Thomas had only-"

"I made a comment I shouldn't have about his drinking. And perhaps about the look of him." I say to thicken the truth in the story. Robert raises his brow.

"Sounds like our Thomas." He teases, "But that is no reason to attack like a rapid dog. I am so sorry Thomas, I'll be sure to find the one responsible. But please, let's get you inside. Mr. Luke please, come in. You've only saved our Under Butler." He smiles and we go in.

It seems to cause quite a stir, on our way downstairs Edith spots me, she looks upset. But then again she always seems to look like that. Several other servants appear and now I feel worse having everyone look at me like I'm a flower show than I do from my wounds. This is the longest bloody walk through this big house. Robert invites Evan into his library while I get taken care of. I think I'd find that stranger than it is if I wasn't so dizzy.

It's Bates who is helping me to my room, and there waits Jimmy and even Alfred, by my room. Holding the door open for Mrs. Hughes who has as pile of bandages. Her care worn face looking upon me. If I didn't know better, I'd think they are care.

I think they just might.

I tell them all I'm just fine and clean off my own face as best I can, holding a cloth to my bleeding lip and nose. My lungs feel like they can relax now as I lay down. They all bustle out except for Bates.

"How are you feeling?" He asks as I settle in the bed, leaning my head against the wall.

"Been worse." I say, he smirks. I wipe dried blood from my face with a damp towel. He stares at me. I know he wants to know.

"You can ask." I smudge my face, leaving red on the cloth.

"Is that him?" I look away.

"You gonna tell on him. On us." The cloth lands with a thud in an empty bowl.

"Of course not." I meet his gaze.

"Someone did." Bates shifts his weight.

"I think we both know who." We are quiet for a moment. "Look, Thomas. I know you and I haven't always been best of friends. But you should know your kind of men are no issue to me." I pick at my sheets. "It takes courage to go with your heart when the law says it isn't right."

"And look where its landed me. Bloodied and beaten, not for the first time either."

"It takes struggles to make something good, Thomas. I'd know."

"That's different."

"Not very." He looks to the door. "I'll leave you be. But know a few of us downstairs knew about you and Evan before this happened. Fear not- Carson, Alfred, are not one of them. But those that do," he locks my gaze. "We're on your side." He pats my bed frame and I nod to him. And a thank you slips out. Having people care. Support. It is a stranger to me. But I hope to become an ally with it. With them. But maybe that's just me injuries talking.

It must have been a few hours I drifted in and out of a queer sleeping state for when I wake up my blood is dry and the sun is down. I am able to gather all my thoughts. The man had to have known about Evan and I, that is why he attacked me. I was worried something like that was going to happen. That's why I said what I did to Evan. What I said... I clench my jaw, remembering the look on his face.

And yet still he comes to my aid. He covers for my trouble. Just like I did him, all those weeks ago. I suddenly don't care who knows. I don't have the energy to, all I want to do is speak to him.

* * *

There is a knock at the door. I say come in than regret it. O'Brien. Eyes downward before meeting mine.

"Before you throw something at me please listen." I clench my sheets. "Please I'll be quick. I didn't mean for this to happen." I raise my brow.

"You expect me to believe it." My eyes narrow at her.

"I don't. But you should. I only meant for him to—to... loose his job. Not for you to-"

"Because getting a soldier fired is much better than having one beat to bits," my words silence her. "All because of who their heart chooses." I mutter, not looking at her.

"I know. It sounds real awful. And it is." I don't like it, but I know her and I sense she is being genuine. O'Brien, always having to do the worst in order to come about.

"Real awful is a kind way to put it. You're right lucky I wasn't killed." The seriousness of my comment hits us both. She locks my gaze, knowing it to be true. "He's going to be next you know." I give her a glare that says more than any foul word. She tilts her head as she speaks.

"No. You're not the only one I have blackmail for, Thomas. I don't go into a deal without having knives under the table. You know that." I almost smirk, knowing it is the truth. "I am going to have a chat with him this evening. I'll slip out as soon as I leave you. I promise you he will be safe."

"That's a big promise to make Mrs. O'Brien."

"It's the least I owe you." Perhaps because this is the second time I've gotten ruined by her meddling with me and a fella that she feels such guilt, responsibility.

She moves for the door, pausing, hand on the knob. "If Evan doesn't have work now, he and Robert are thick as thieves in there. I doubt he will have a trouble with finding something once he leaves tonight... and I will say what I need to make things right." She leaves.

* * *

It's been a bit since she left. I wonder if Evan is still here. I adjust my bandages and move to get out of bed when Carson's voice is at the door. I sigh. He's the last bloody man I want to see.

"Yes." I say.

"You have a visitor. May we come in." I answer and the door opens. He steps aside, there is Evan. "I will leave you be and show you out when you down when you are finished." He nods and walks away. I expect a glare but receive none. Perhaps even with O'Brien's tattling, Bates is right.

The door is open as he nears me but I gesture for him to close it. He does so and gingerly approaches.

"You look better." I smirk.

"You're just being friendly." He smiles, taking a seat on a stool beside my bed.

"I should have known he would figure me out." Evan says.

"Don't give that dafty all the credit. He had some help." I say with a sigh. I tell him about O'Brien. What she did. What she is going to do. That he should be safe. I tell him that he's going to be all right. Evan is quiet and scoots closer, resting a hand on my knee as I face him. The wood cool beneath my feet.

"Are you going to be all right?" He asks. I nod.

"Course. I'm a tough one to beat." I try and smile.

"That you are."

"Evan I-" I trip on my words. "I'm sorry for the way I acted. I was only worried," I take a breath, "I only knew something like this was coming. And I was so terrified it was going to happen to you. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let me bring harm to you." Our eyes meet and he rises to sit on the bed beside me.

"I'd rather it been me than you." I shake my head.

"Never. I'm not worth that." That makes Evan go quiet before fixing me with a stern stare.

"You need to stop saying that, Thomas." I stare at the floor before meeting his brown gaze. "What you said earlier about everyone knowing who you are... if they truly think that, which I don't think they do, they're wrong." I fiddle with a cloth in my hand.

"Look I-" I begin quietly but he cuts me off.

"They're wrong, Thomas. Anyone who thinks ill of you doesn't know you. Doesn't know you like I know you." He pauses taking a steady breath. Gently cupping my face and I meet his eyes. "Doesn't love you, like I love you." I have become my heart. My heartbeat. For it is all I feel as I hear his words. "And you are worth more than the entire world. Worth any battle if I get to keep you." I press my hand upon his own on my cheek.

"You have shown me what love is, Evan." I rest my head on his temple. "I've never said the words as truly a I mean them now when I say I love you." He answers with a kiss. A kiss so fine that I hope it doesn't end. For with him, with us, I feel I could do anything. "For the first time in my life, I know what it is to be truly happy. And that is the greatest gift you could ever give." He kisses me again, once on the forehead, another on my hand, and a last on my lips.

"And you bumping into me that one morning, was the best gift I could ever get." I smile. I never would have thought that my instincts and Patmore were right. That he was like me. That he would fancy me, as deeply as I do him. Life is a funny thing.

"Now what do we do?" I say with a smirk, but it is the truth.

"Let's start with going downstairs." I chuckle and we both stand up, my head spins a bit. Evan rests a hand on my back.

"Robert invited me to stay for dinner, downstairs I assume." I raise my brow.

"He sure likes ya." Evan bites his lip.

"There's something he said... just now before I came up, that makes me think it won't be the last dinner I have in this house." I fix him with a stare as I put my coat and vest back on.

"How do you mean?" He says he told Robert enough to see he is without work now, that Robert thinks a former Townsend footman should be treated right.

"He offered me a job." I pause the buttoning of my coat. My heart jumps.

"Here..." He nods. I can't believe my ears. He smiles. "That would mean..."

"Everything."

There is a knock at the door. It is Carson again. We step away from each other and I clasp my hands behind my back. He enters. Asking if Mr. Luke would like to be shown back to Robert's library. He thanks the butler and moves to follow him out. But turns to me first. He tips his hat.

"Glad to see you're all right Mr. Barrow." I smile and nod.

"Thank you for the help, Mr. Luke." They leave.

I take a moment to breathe. To close my eyes. I think for the first time in your life, Thomas, you have luck on your side. I have a good life ahead of me.

I dust off my coat, wipe the rest of the dried blood off my face. There are bruises to heal still, yes, but what's a bruise on the face or the heart when you have happiness. Have friends. Have family.

When you have love.

I open the door, head downstairs towards the bustle of dinner, and I smile.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thank you to all who read this story! I am thinking about a sequel, but need to know what you all thought of this one first. So _**please review**_! I hope you all enjoyed the read. I just so desperately wanted Thomas to have a good and loving relationship with someone. Hopefully we'll see something like this in series 4, he deserves it! Thank you again!

**NEW:** Find the sequel on my author's page! _The Fella II: Wounded_.


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